


Pretty

by LivingSilver



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Smut, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 17:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingSilver/pseuds/LivingSilver
Summary: "Billy," you say quietly, parting your mouth from his, interrupting your heated make out session. Arms wrapped around his neck, straddling his lap."What?" He asks lowly, hands skimming up your sides.Your gaze roams over the angle of his cheekbones, the line of his haw, the curve of his lips, those fuck me lashes."You're so fucking pretty," you murmur.





	Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Just some quick filth really.

"Billy," you say quietly, parting your mouth from his, interrupting your heated make out session. Arms wrapped around his neck, straddling his lap.

"What?" He asks lowly, hands skimming up your sides.

Your gaze roams over the angle of his cheekbones, the line of his haw, the curve of his lips, those fuck me lashes.

"You're so fucking pretty," you murmur.

His blue eyes sharpen.

"Oh yeah?" He returns playfully, like he doesn't already know it.

"Yeah," you answer breathily, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, then just below in the crook, then you're nipping at his ear lobe, letting your tongue flick along the edge, savoring the way his fingers tighten on your waist, before releasing it, trailing your lips down his throat, consumed with the taste of him, and his gold skin smooth beneath your mouth; your tongue lingering in the hollow of his throat.

His breath is getting shallow now. You grind against his lap, palming his exposed chest. The muscle firm beneath your touch. Its heady; its powerful. Your hands roam carefully over the lines of his body, noting every flex and definition, as you kiss him deeply, tongues curling together, sighing against him, feeling him hard in his jeans against your thigh where your skirt is pushed up. Palm him through the tight denim, swallowing his groan, before pulling away. You love it when he looks like this--all flushed and wanting, lips pink and swollen and shiny.

You climb out of his lap and settle on your knees between the v of his thighs. He bites his lip at the sight, in anticipation of what's next. Fucking gorgeous.

You take your time unbuttoning the last few buttons of his shirt, popping open his jeans, pulling out the ends of his shirt, drawing the zipper down. No underwear in sight as usual.

Billy's dick is as pretty as the rest of him. Perfectly shaped tip in the same obscene pink of his mouth, a shaft that's definitely pushing average in length, and thick.

There's already some clear fluid gathered at the tip and you run your thumb over it. He's leaning back on his hands now, watching with bated breath. You make a show of pressing your tongue against the underside of the tip before swirling around it and sucking it gently into your mouth. Billy lets out a soft breath, head tilting back to the ceiling briefly. He's heavy and salty sweet on your tongue as you toy with just the tip for now, looking up at him through lowered lashes.

"Look so fucking good like this, on your knees, my dick in your mouth." His voice is low and rough.

You take a breath, closing your eyes and swallowing him to the base. He bites off a moan, fingers running encouragingly through your hair as you bob up and down his length, letting your tongue drag against the tip with every stroke. It isn't long before his breathing is heavy, fingers tightening in your hair as he struggles to keep his hips still. You reopen your eyes, cutting him a look and letting your jaw go slack.

"Christ, fuck, so fucking perfect," he curses, taking the hint, and thrusting shallowly into your mouth at first and then more sharply, once, twice, cock throbbing on your tongue as he comes to a stop, spilling and spilling into your mouth, brows knit together, mouth dropping open, groaning almost pornographically. You swallow it all, letting him rock oversensitive against your tongue until you pull away with a soft pop.

He slides his hand out of your hair and down the side of your face, thumb dragging over your bottom lip.

You stand, all too aware of your own desire throbbing between your legs. Billy runs a hand up your thigh, up under your skirt, presses against the damp material of your panties.

"Such a little slut, so wet for me, just from sucking me off."

He hooks his fingers in the waistband, pulling them down your legs, until they fall off, hitting the floor, and you climb into his lap, straddling one of his thighs. He kisses you hungrily, doesn't care that he can taste himself as he licks into you, and you grind against him, fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck; delicious friction of his denim causing you to gasp against him.

"Soaking through my jeans sweetheart," he murmurs onto your lips, hand slipping beneath your bunched up skirt, stroking you just so with two fingers, his other hand coming to rest on your hip, guiding you to an easy rhythm, and you place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, panting softly into the crook of his neck. His thigh is so deliciously thick, so solid, against you, the denim rough in all the right ways, his thumb circling your clit with intention now because he wants to see you wreck yourself on his thigh.

Your nails begin to bite into the skin of his shoulder.

"That's it, princess, want you to come just like this, so fucking hot, so _needy_," he encourages hotly against the shell of your ear and it does straight to the base of your spine.

He flexes the muscle of his thigh and you can fucking feel it tighten, just as your hips rock forward, his fingers pressing harder against your clit, and if his jeans were soaked before they're going to be ruined now, moaning and gasping high and sweet as you come, his fingers stroking you through it, still whispering filth against your skin.

When you finally come around, eyes fluttering open slowly, and you risk a glance down at the mess you've made. Also noting that Billy is hard again, dick curving up against his hip.

"Sorry about your jeans," you offer, not really sorry at all, but also not really sure what came over you. You've never been this wet for anyone else.

Billy kisses you slow and lazy.

"Nothin' to be sorry about sweetheart," he says cutting you a dangerous grin, "want you to soak my sheets next."

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr. Main Blog: fairiequeens. Side Blog: thirstbxtch.


End file.
